


Friends For Ever and Never

by orphan_account



Category: X-Men
Genre: AU, Angry Erik, Calm Down Erik, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Erik is a Sweetheart, F/M, M/M, Poor Charles, Protective Erik, children au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 16:50:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3776119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a young Erik Lehnsherr is adopted into a rich family for political popularity from Poland, he feels stranded and alone on the big huge island they call America. Fortunately, another boy named Charles Xavier is experiencing the exact same thing in the same school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try my hand at one of my child AU's!  
> (Dun dun dun or da da da DAAA?)
> 
> Anyway, just because I have to go from child to adult in this, I can pretty much guarantee this will be longer than Starting Over From Scratch. Speaking of, I'm so grateful for the kudos, everyone! So... There is a lot of "colorful language" in this piece, so I've warned you. And, just because there's cursing DOESN'T mean there's smut, weirdos! (Not only because it's odd to write, but I have no idea how to even write it anyway.)
> 
> Enjoy!

"Sydney! Rodney! Anthony! Erik!" Mrs. Vandooren yelled from the kitchen. Erik winced at how her tone of voice changed when she said his name. He knew the Vandooren's had only adopted him from Poland because they wanted political popularity amongst the voters, and they had picked him because he looked so different from the blonde-haired blue-eyed Vandooren spawn. School in Westchester was supposedly good, but Erik thought otherwise. Curriculum wise, it was fine-what did Erik know about American education, anyway-but student wise, it was hell.Stampeding down the stairs, Sydney, Rodney and Anthony raced to the kitchen for their breakfast. Erik quietly stepped down the hall in order to not wake Mr. Vandooren. The man was the equivalent to a charging bull when he was woken up by Erik, and he had experienced that the hard way.

"Erik! I said get down here!" Mrs. Vandooren hollered again, and Erik tried to tiptoe faster but accidentally put his foot down to hard. _Oh. No._ He continued walking, even when he heard the door open and Mr. Vandooren shout, "Boy! What did I tell you about waking me up in the morning?" and begin to stomp down the hall. _Shit._ Erik thought. He could neither run, nor keep walking nor stop. He decided he would make a run for the door without breakfast. As he sped up, so did Mr. Vandooren.

"Boy! You get back here now!" Erik didn't listen. Grabbing his pack from the doorway, Erik slipped out the door and sprinted for school without any breakfast. He turned his head to see the boy's and Mrs. Vandooren's appalled faces as he escaped. When the mansion was no longer in sight, he slowed. Plenty of time was on his hands before he actually had to be at school, so he went to the local park and sat down at the foot of the hill near the pond. He pulled out his notebook and began to sketch a policeman that was sitting on an idle horse nearby. Art was something he had picked up during his time in the concentration camp, and he quite enjoyed it. However, his attention was caught on an argument at the top of the hill.

"Hey Xavier! You gonna do our algebra homework for us? Bet you ya will!" an older boy taunted a kid about Erik's age in a wheelchair. He noticed that the wheelchair was almost teetering at the edge of the hill. A group began to form around the boy, who wasn't cowering or recoiling at all. _Son of a bitch... You're going to fall...!_ Erik winced as he saw the chair back up an inch. He refrained from yelling anything; it may give the group of boys an idea.

"I'm not going to do your own simple work for you. I suggest your time is better well spent mooning over Polly-Anne Osteen." the boy spat. Obviously, this boy had some inside information on those people, suggesting that this was a regular ordeal for him. A red-haired brute much bigger than all of the other teenagers and cracked his knuckles. Erik braced himself for the beating the boy was about to get. Instead, all the monster did was push the wheelchair with his finger. The boy couldn't stop it with his feet or anything, and began to fall. Erik jumped to his feet and jumped behind the trajectory of the chair, but the boy was smart enough to propel himself out of it before it gathered up speed. Barely catching it by the wheel, Erik steadied it when it came to the bottom and began to trudge up the hill to the boy, who was shaking with anger. Luckily, Erik got to him before the rest of the teenagers did and stood in front of him protectively.

"Ha! He's crippled _and_ gay!" one of them guffawed. Erik's face turned scarlet as the rest of them began to laugh. Another thing he had learned in the camp was how to start and finish a proper fist fight. Oh, was _that_ going to come in handy now. Stepping up to the one who had made the remark, Erik fiercely glared at him, in return getting a self-righteous smirk.

"You leave him alone, or your ass is going to be bloody and bruised on the ground in ten seconds." Erik snarled. The rest of the group mockingly gasped and began laughing again. This didn't embarrass him one bit; in fact, it made him feel more superior.

"We got a Jew over here, huh? Think I couldn't hear it in your festering lil' bitchy German voice?" the troll cooed in Erik's face. _I thought I'd escaped Hitler's wrath when I came here... Apparently I was wrong!_ Erik swung his fist at the boy and connected forcibly with his jaw. His scream sounded like a whistle blowing in Erik's ears, but more enjoyable somehow. When he had recovered from the shock, the hulking mass of idiocy charged at Erik, who simply stepped to the side and let him run himself in the pond. The rest of them began to laugh, including "Xavier". Assuming they could hustle their wet member instead of them, they ran down the hill and began dunking one another in.

"Thank you, by the way. My name is Charles, Charles Xavier. And... I hate to ask you this, but could you help carry me down the hill to my wheelchair? As you can see, I'm paralyzed from the waist down." Charles said pleasantly. Erik heaved him from underneath his shoulders and began to slowly walk him down the hill.

"I'm Erik Lehnsherr. It wasn't a problem. Those bastards were getting on my nerves." Erik was beginning to feel self-concious of his accent towards people after the comment and tried to mask it up. Looking over at Charles, Erik admired how optimistic he seemed, even when he was getting carried down a hill, paralyzed, by a Jewish stranger. 

"You needn't hide your accent, Erik; Nick is an ass and you know it." Charles said suddenly, spooking Erik significantly. When they reached the bottom of the hill, Erik had to place Charles into his wheelchair, and it made him highly uncomfortable. Charles grinned up at him, and he forgot all about his doubts.


	2. I've Got Your Back Even If I Can't Fix Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever since that fateful day in the park, Erik and Charles have been practically inseparable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYE!
> 
> (I don't even know, you guys)  
> Anywhoooo.... I'm actually getting excited for where this might lead! I have a few clarifications for you math jockeys, by the way. As some of you guys would know, Erik was born in the late 20's, so in 1945, when WWII ended, he would be about 14/15, maybe. He's going to be 14 for this, just so he can have some growing up time. Maybe I will change the time when WWII ends, like a boss ass history hipster. Also, sorry for being so inactive I have a bunch of tests and stuff coming up :P
> 
> Read onnnn!

"Did you turn in the book report?" Charles asked Erik as they wheeled themselves to the dining hall. After Erik had helped Charles out of his predicament in the park, they were the best of friends. Charles helped Erik in every aspect of schoolwork while Erik guided Charles through not-being-socially-awkward. It was a beautiful friendship.

"I think that teacher has it out for me." Erik responded as he helped Charles onto the dining hall bench. The weird thing about Charles' immobility was that he actually would've been taller than Erik could he stand up. In front of them was their lunch: a slightly-inedible pile of green beans, a dry sandwich and milk.

"So you didn't turn it in?" Charles said. He laughed and pushed his tray to the side. None of the students ate their lunch; they depended on the food smuggling that some participated in for the better good of the student body. Erik shrugged and did the same.

"I didn't say that." Charles looked up at him with his eyebrows raised expectantly. As soon as he did, the SLST (Student Lunch Smuggling Team) ran around and deposited an apple in front of everyone; except Charles.

"Hey!" Erik raised his voice to try and meet the ears of one of the students. None of them heard him or they pretended he didn't say anything. Charles smiled, though Erik could tell he was hurt. _This isn't fair,_ Erik hissed to himself. Aaron, the closest member of the SLST came over and sneered in Erik's face.

"If he's so rich, he can bring his own damn lunch." Both Charles and Erik stood still as he walked away, then looked at each other in surprise. Picking up his apple, Erik threw it at the back of Aaron's head-and hit him. The whole lunchroom froze. _Verdammt_ _._ _.._ Erik winced as the lunch monitor walked over, grabbed him by the collar and into the headmaster's office. He wasn't scared of the headmaster per se, but the fact that he had left Charles alone in a lunchroom full of teenage boys that hated him sent a shiver down his spine.

"Erik, this is the fifth time you've been in here this week. I think we have a streak going. So... You threw an apple at Aaron Abernathy's head while he wasn't looking?" the headmaster looked down at the report file. Nodding, Erik looked behind him and found himself staring at Charles, who was sitting in his wheelchair. Hidden from the headmaster's sight, he had his fingers to his temples in some gesture Erik didn't understand.

"Erik? What are you looking at?" the headmaster got up and Erik tried to signal for Charles to go, but he wasn't fast enough. The headmaster opened the door, dragged Charles in by the handle of his wheelchair-which made Erik angrier than he already was-and sat him next to Erik. They exchanged a nervous glance.

"So. Trying to bail your friend out of trouble, eh, Xavier? You aren't going to get away with your antics again." he said. _Antics? What does he mean by that?_ Erik thought. Charles Xavier _never_ stepped out of line, especially when the headmaster was involved. Either he had a history Erik didn't know, or Charles just protected Erik in a different fashion than Erik did him. It was confusing whichever way he thought about it. Besides, Charles was the best student Westchester Secondary Private School had ever seen; it would look bad on their part to expel a child prodigy, especially when he was in a wheelchair and part of one of Westchester's most wealthy and prominent families. Erik, on the other hand, was a Jewish adoptee who had no business attending a school such as WSPS. Now that he thought about it, expulsion not be such a bad thing. Well... Maybe.

"No sir, I was only going to report something to you personally, as no one else in the lunchroom would. You see, there is a secret lunch smuggling team compiled of various students. Today, they gave everybody apples. Erik, who had finally had enough of this mockery towards his school, tried to throw the apple back to Mr. Abernathy. Unfortunately, Mr. Abernathy was turned around, which he hadn't been a moment before, and the object in question hit him in the back of the neck. No injuries or trauma to the head, rest assured." Charles lied. He made the motion with his fingers again-still a mystery movement-and the headmaster smiled.

"Why, of course, that must have been what happened. Aaron does have a history of lying, I'm afraid. My deepest apologies, Mr. Lehnsherr. Go back to class." he made a shooing gesture with his hand and Erik escorted Charles out of the headmaster's office.

 

"How did you do that?" Erik asked as they walked-or, in Charles' case, wheeled-into the courtyard to go back to their dorms. Charles stiffened nervously, his shoulders tensed and eyebrows raised.

"Did what? Persuade the headmaster that you didn't do anything wrong? Just... Technique. Skills and technique." Charles replied quickly. Not believing him for once, Erik stopped the wheelchair, pushed down the brake and stepped in front of him. Green eyes connected with blue ones as Erik tried to figure out what his friend was hiding from him. It didn't take long to figure it out; his eyes told stories that were more detailed than a novel. They were even more interesting to look at than one.

"You're not telling the complete truth. Out with it." Erik said. Those blue eyes silently pleaded otherwise, but Erik needed to know what his best friend was capable of. Seeing that they might attract a crowd of students-as they were in the middle of the brick path leading out-so he released the brake and wheeled them over to the fountain. An illustrious school was WSPS, and almost bankrupt as well.

"What's going on, Charles? What aren't you telling me?" Erik reiterated. Slumping more than usual in his chair, Charles closed his sparkling eyes and bit his lip. _Oh... Is it that bad?_ Erik thought. He began to have second thoughts on asking him but Charles was already explaining.

"I'm a telepath." he whispered. _Telepath? He's a telepath? He's a_ telepath, Erik stared down at his friend. Well, he did, until he saw his eyes fill up with tears.

"I knew you'd think I was a monster." he said, his voice trembling. He began to wheel himself out of the courtyard and back to his dorm. _What have I done..._ Erik thought, stunned that he could see Charles in such a vulnerable state.

"Charles, wait! No I don't!" Erik scrambled to catch up with him, which wasn't hard, and caught him by the handle. Charles turned around and looked up at him, like a cowering animal. _He really thinks I hate him... I can't have him doing that,_ Erik snarled in his brain, then winced as he remembered that Charles was probably reading his mind at that moment. _Sorry,_ he apologized, just in case he was. The courtyard was now empty, they were all alone. A bird chirped softly in the oak tree in the center of the courtyard; a bee buzzed about the hydrangeas to the side of it. Both boys stared at each other with an equal amount of understanding and a vast number of questions.

"Wow..." Charles murmured, looking up at Erik in awe. Glancing down at his wrist for some reason, Erik saw that the hands on his watch were swirling about at a mind-blowing rate. _What the hell?_ he thought, turning around to look at the rest of the courtyard. The metal handles on each of the doors were broken, and the fountain heads were bent at various angles. _Did_ I _do this?_ Erik asked himself timidly. **_Yes. You're a mutant too,_ ** another voice spoke in his head that was not his own. Erik shook his head and looked down at Charles, who was grinning like the happiest person in the world.

"Charles?" Erik whispered in an anxious voice.

"Erik, you're a mutant... Like me," Charles replied back excitedly, "Mutants will always have each other's backs, no matter how far you've fallen."

%MCEPASTEBIN%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for those of you who were like WTF SHE SAID DORMS BUT IN THE FIRST CHAPTER SHE SAID HE LIVED WITH THE VANDOOREN'S! Well, you perceptive ones, Erik stays in a dorm five days of the week and goes back on weekENDS. Good catch, but I tend not to make errors. Speaking of, if I make an error, TELL ME-Loki quote :P-in the comments, which exist btw, so I can correct it. I am a grammar Nazi! But... The good kind of Nazi... UGH SEE WHAT YOU'VE DONE


End file.
